


• Tumblr Fic Prompts •

by ShesGoneRogue



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Charmie - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:45:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShesGoneRogue/pseuds/ShesGoneRogue
Summary: A collection of prompts from Tumblr. (All Charmie with exception of the first one, if you want to skip that ;)1. MINE - Timmy wants a baby...with you2. QUIET MORNING - a rainy day in Crema3. LADY'S NIGHT - Pauline convinces Timmy to join her and her bachelorette party at a strip club....by the end of the night, he's not sorry he went.4. WHAT HE NEEDS - Armie is struggling beneath the weight of the choices he has to make. Timmy knows just what he needs.5. SUSPICIOUS MINDS - Modern day Elio+Oliver A/U6. THREE TAKES - Armie helps Timmy work through some frustration7. BROS - teen Armie (15/16) meets kid Timmy (12) at a skate park and takes him under his wing8. BEGINNINGS - drama school A/U - Timmy (18) and Armie (24) meet in Mr Guadagnino's class9. ROAD TRIP - Luca takes everyone to coast for a day of relaxation10. SOMETHING NEW - my nod to multiple requests for a little belly appreciation.11. STORMY WEATHER - kiss prompt(s)





	1. Mine

**Author's Note:**

> It's been requested that I gather these together and post them here for better access to revisit - I'm flattered ❤️

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Submitted by : Anonymous   
> this is so totally kink tmi but like there is something SO sexy about the idea that having sex with timmy could get you pregnant. like he’s so precious and adorable but he can also knock you up and make you have a baby UM bye I’ve revealed my shame

He wakes you with soft kisses, nuzzling into your neck with quiet little hums of pleasure.

 

"Mmm...I can't _not_ touch you in the mornings. You're so warm and soft."

 

You smile sleepily and squirm a little as his hand runs up your side and beneath your (his) t-shirt.

 

He opens his mouth against the pulse in your neck as the pad of his thumb finds your nipple.

 

There's no hiding your body's response to his attentions.

 

He laughs against your skin as you arch into his touch, your breath already speeding up.

 

"I love how responsive you are, baby girl..." he purrs, sliding his hand back down to tug at your panties. "Spread your legs for me."

 

God, could you possibly want him any more than you do in this moment? He woke you up from a dream of having him inside you and you can still feel the ache of that loss. His cups you gently, his slender fingers barely brushing over you. It's maddening. "I can feel your heat."

 

"Please, Tim..."

 

He moans quietly, pushing the shirt up and taking your nipple into his mouth as his fingers slip in between your wet folds.

 

"Oh fuck, baby....so wet for me already..." His hard cock presses into your hip as he slides his fingers slowly between your lips, circling the aching nub of your rigid clit teasingly before pulling back to once again stroke you with perfect pressure. Two fingers push inside you with almost no effort. You're dying for it, clenching greedily around them. He curls his fingers, slowly fucking you with them for an agonizingly short moment before pulling out and stroking you right to the edge.

 

"Fuck me —"

 

He shushes you, nips at the side of your breast, sleepy eyes peeking up at you through touseled curls. "Not until you come for me. I want to feel it soaking my hand, then I'll give you my cock and make you come again." His mouth moves back to your nipple, more demanding now. Fingers circling again, speeding up until your thighs are shaking and you're riding his hand shamelessly.

 

"Tim!"

 

"Give it to me, baby girl." he purrs. He's grinding on your hip, his fingers moving over you with perfect friction. He feels you tense up and shoves them deep inside you, moaning and jerking his hips in time with your muscles spasming around his fingers.

 

He's so hard against you, and even through the haze of pleasure his fingers pulled you into, all you can think about is being filled by him. His heat. His hardness. His breath in your ear as he slides his cock into you.

 

"Please, baby...please..." you beg even as you come down off your high, shifting your hips and pawing at him wantonly to get him on top of you. 

 

His breath is shuddering as he pulls his fingers out and shoves his boxers down. He needs it just as badly as you do. "I want to come inside you...make a baby with you." He looks wrecked already. His pupils dilated and lips flushed. 

 

Tears well up your eyes. You nod, too emotional to respond with words.

 

He whispers your name and kisses you tenderly, pulling back just enough to trace the fingers still wet with your juices over your open lips before devouring your mouth again as he pushes inside you.

 

The feeling is incomparable. When he's inside you, nothing else matters. The world ceases to exist.

 

He makes the most beautiful sounds...soft gasps and moans as you surround every rigid inch of him.

 

You can tell he's not going to last long. He's already shaking with the effort of trying to go slow for you. You urge him on with your heels, your hands sliding down his back to cup his ass, the thought of him wanting to put his baby inside you already pulling you to the brink.

 

"Come with me, baby...fill me up, Tim. Make me yours." Tears stream back into your hair. You've never felt this close before...this bonded.

 

He moves faster, harder, his hips snapping as the friction builds. He cries out and you can feel him stiffen and pulse inside you, imagine that you can feel the heat of his seed coating your insides. It's enough to send you reeling into the abyss, muscles tugging at him, pulling him deeper as your body opens up to every drop he spills inside you.

 

It seems to go on forever, this rocking together - spinning out, sweet bliss...where do you end? Where does he begin?

 

He finally shudders to a stop and stills with most of his weight pressing you down into the mattress. He's breathless, trembling, sweat damp curls tickling your cheek.

 

You hold him tight, stroke his back.

 

He finally lifts up to look down at you as he pulls out, a dizzy smile on his face.

 

" _Mine_." he whispers.


	2. Quiet Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Submitted by: Anonymous   
> Prompt: Crema. Sunday, early morning. The boys are asleep in bed together, Armie's chest pressed against Timmy's back, spooning him. It's stormy outside, they left the windows open to feel the cool breeze on their skin. A loud thunder wakes them up. They don't speak, but have slow, lazy, morning sex.

An ancient table fan clicks away quietly in the corner...sheer curtains rustling gently in the breeze coming through the open windows. Timmy shifts in his sleep as a distant rumble of thunder pulls him out of the depths of a dreamless sleep. He opens his eyes just a fraction, barely registering the outline of trees swaying outside in the dim grey light. The rain starts with a gentle patter, lulling him back to sleep with a lazy smile on his lips. There will be no filming today. 

 

All is quiet for a while. Soft breathing. Still, warm bodies.

 

The incoming storm grows in strength, weaving its way into the dream Timmy slipped into. A dream of a sun-drenched day, laying in the grass....clouds rolling in. Eyes as blue as sky eclipse his view of the bright Italian afternoon. Soft lips curve in a wistful smile before descending to kiss with a tenderness that stirs his blood. In his dream, he closes his eyes and sinks into the sensation. He shifts beneath the sheets as the kiss grows more intense. 

 

Armie's arm instinctively tightens in his sleep at the slight disturbance, pulling Timmy closer to his chest.

 

A loud crack of thunder jolts Timmy awake. He lifts his head, searching, his eyes wide and startled - not understanding why his heart is racing. A sense of loss heavy in the pit of his stomach.

 

Armie is a sound sleeper, slower to come around. He doesn't open his eyes but nuzzles into the silky curls at the nape of Timmy's neck and rubs his naked belly soothingly.

 

Timmy's heart rate immediately slows. He rests his head and presses back into the solid heat of Armie's body molded against him from chest to knees.

 

Armie curls around him protectively, his hand drifting a fraction lower to discover the lingering physical effects of Timmy's dream resting against his hip bone. He hums softly, fingers brushing over Timmy's hardness as his own body begins to stir in response.

 

Timmy reaches down and presses Armie's palm against him, curls his fingers around him with a soft sigh.

 

Armie begins stroking lazily, still half asleep. As Timmy grows in thickness within the cage of his fingers he begins rocking subtly against his back, letting the gentle friction bring him to full consciousness.

 

Timmy turns his head, his mouth open, seeking...the lingering temptation of sleep replaced now by something far more appealing.

 

Armie raises up and leans over him, eyes barely open. Their lips meet as lightning flashes over them. The thunder is on top of them now. The rain coming down in heavy sheets.

 

Every move they make is direct contrast to the ferocity of the storm. They are safe and warm, content to kiss and touch languidly until the need for more cannot be ignored.

 

Soft lips slowly open to searching tongues. Not a word yet spoken between them.

 

Armie is fully hard now. A sinuous shift of hips brings the head of his cock to Timmy's plush entrance, still soft and open from last night's lovemaking.

 

Timmy gasps...squirms a little, still sensitive.

 

Armie pauses, starts to pull away, but Timmy's hand reaches back to his hip to stop him. His eyes open, lock on to Armie's as he urges him forward with a commanding grip and a quiet intake of shared breath.

 

Armie sinks in with little resistance, wet heat surrounding him and tightening with exquisite, fleeting pulses that pull him deeper. His breath catches slightly,  mingling with Timmy's quiet hiss as he bottoms out.

 

They still, lips brushing lightly, eye to eye while Timmy adjusts to the fullness. He raises his chin the slightest bit, his fingers pressing into Armie's hip.

 

Armie begins to move with the tiniest nudges, not really pulling out so much as easing the tension of his muscles. They kiss again, his hand gently squeezing Timmy in time to his movements.

 

Timmy quickly grows impatient as always, his back arching for more after only a few moments, but Armie is insistent on setting the pace this morning - using his strength and size to quell the urgency in Timmy's body. Timmy furrows his brow and turns his face into the pillow when Armie doesn't take the bait.

 

Armie pulls out a little and pauses, his hand tightening almost uncomfortably on Timmy's shaft. "Shhhhh...."

 

An almost imperceptible nod, his clenching eases.

 

Armie pulls out and gently guides Timmy over onto his back, lifting his thighs and wrapping his legs around his waist before entering him again at a snail's pace. He leans down on one elbow, bringing them chest to chest, and brushes damp curls off Timmy's forehead. Armie's eyes wander lovingly over Timmy's face, drinking in every detail as he looks up at him with total adoration.

 

Time slips away as they lose themselves in a slow, easy rhythm that continues long after the storm has passed.

 

 


	3. Lady's Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Submitted by @maraskolnikova  
> Prompt for you! Do with it what you shall (or not :p): AU Timmy attends his sister's bachelorette party which takes place, in part, at a strip club. He goes grudgingly. One of the dancers catches his eye. Looks to be in his late 20s, tall, blonde and muscular. Timmy can't keep his eyes off of him for some reason. The guy is slightly shy and unsure of his movements but Tim is entranced by the purity of his beauty... Okay I'm running away now!

"Come _on_ , Tim! You have to go. It won't be the same without you there..."

 

He shakes his head and tries to laugh it off, but she grabs his hand and pulls him towards the limo waiting outside the restaurant. He drags his feet and tries to give her a goodbye hug at the door, but she sticks her bottom lip out and stamps her foot, looking utterly pathetic. "You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" he mutters in exasperation, knowing full well that he's going to give in.

 

She beams at him "You love me."

 

He rolls his eyes and ducks into the limo.

 

The champagne is flowing. The girls are all giggling and flirting with him. He's the reluctant center of attention in a hen party with one guy (cock?) thrown in the mix.

 

He's polite - playful even...but if they only knew. They can flirt all night and offer him anything he wants, but it's never going to go anywhere.

 

Pauline gives him a sly smile from across the car. She knows exactly what he's thinking, and it's an endless source of entertainment for her to watch him squirm and figure out new ways to let his never-ending stream of female admirers down gently.

 

Timmy returns her look with one of his own. ' _You'll pay for this_ ' written clearly on his face. No words necessary because that's how it's always been between them.

 

He downs more champagne, bracing himself for the rest of the evening.

 

By the time they reach the club, he's a little more relaxed. The girls got bored trying to bait him and have now moved on to treating him like just another part of the Bachelorette party. 

 

When they pull up and get out, he blinks up at the bright neon and shakes his head a little as he holds the door for the excited mini-mob of scantily clad (and more than a little tipsy) ladies as they exit the car. Pauline is the last one out and pecks him on the cheek with a bright smile before looping her arm through his.

 

"It's not that bad, Tim. I promise. And you don't have to stay all night...just hang out for a little while, okay? You might even have fun!"

 

He squeezes her arm against his side and grins good-naturedly.

"The things I do for my big sister."

 

She giggles and nudges him with her shoulder in acknowledgement.

 

Inside the club it's _loud_...so loud that conversation isn't even remotely possible. He squints through the flashing lights and thick darkness in between as he follows the hand signals of his little group weaving their way through the press of bodies to their reserved tables.

 

Glistening chests, bow ties, and thongs are everywhere. _Jesus_.

 

He watches his feet, occasionally looking up to nod and smile with a polite ' _excuse me_ ' that can't be heard as he squeezes his way through naked flesh and clouds of strong perfume. It's a relief when they finally reach their little roped off section. He immediately orders a gin and tonic and pulls his phone out as everyone else scampers off to exchange larger bills for singles. He can't even hear himself think.

 

A new song starts. Thumping bass. The light show changes and it becomes impossible to focus on his phone. He lays it face down on the table and thanks the oily-muscled beefcake that brings his drink. The wink he gets in return throws him off a little. He can feel the blush heating his cheeks and for a split second is very grateful for the colored lights. Why did he agree to this? Oh, _right_...because he's never been able to say no his big sister.

 

The table is sticky. The air is dank. He sits back and sips, determined to look casual even though he's just about ready to bolt...or crawl out of his skin - whichever comes first. His eyes wander aimlessly, mostly just taking in the overall giddy chaos of the women and a few men trying and failing not to openly drool over all of the skin on display.

 

These guys are definitely not his type. He snorts into his drink, doing his level best not to laugh outright at a Village People doppelganger in a cop hat and spangly silver g-string gyrating his obviously 'enhanced' package in the face of a blushing granny. He has to look away or risk a choking death by Tanqueray....that's the precise moment that changes his whole evening.

 

The smaller stage is set off to the side, almost hidden in a corner. There's a growing cluster of admirers gathering around it as a tall Adonis with the whitest teeth he's ever seen smiles down and flirts for his tips. He's not necessarily the most rhythmic dancer, his height and the length of his limbs leaning a little too much towards gangly to be considered graceful - but what he does he does _very well_. He's playful...no feigned seductive air or come hither look pasted on his face. He wiggles and gyrates, turns and peeks over his shoulder with a cheeky smile as he twerks his ass. He looks like he's genuinely having fun and his audience is all but falling over themselves to lure him to the edge of the stage so that they can stuff their dollars into his skimpy hot pants.

 

Timmy is smiling despite himself. His eyes never leave his newfound point of interest when the waiter takes his empty glass and leans down to bellow "Another?" way closer than necessary. He nods absently, entranced by a new move that has the Adonis' thighs flexing in such a way that Timmy can feel it in his own muscles.

 

Just then, Pauline flops down in the seat next to him, breathless and laughing. He jumps and grins sheepishly as her eyes follow to where he was staring off. She leans in close, pulling his shoulder down. "What have we here, le frérot? Have you found something to pique your interest after all?"

 

He shrugs her hand off and rubs his cheek over his shoulder in a nervous tic she recognizes from their childhood. He's embarrassed and tries to laugh it off, but he knows he's caught out.

 

The waiter returns with his drink and he accepts it with a smile, trying in vain to keep his eyes from wandering back to the side stage.

 

She notices. The grin of recognition hasn't budged from her face.

 

"What?! Leave me alone!" he squirms and gulps his drink too quickly, a thick dribble sloshing over the rim onto his shirt front. "Fuck."

 

She laughs and ruffles his curls before nudging a handful of dollars his way. "Why don't you go say 'hi'?"

 

Timmy looks both alarmed and insulted. "You can't be serious?" he yells just as the music fades out. He winces and swipes at the wet spot on his shirt.

 

"Why not? He's cute. Looks like your type. What have you got to lose?"

 

Timmy leans close, rolling his eyes that he's even bothering to argue with her about something so absurd.

 

"First of all - _EW_?! We're in a fucking strip club, which means he's probably full of himself just like Officer Greasy over there and all the other spandex walking around...." he gestures vaguely with his drink. His waiter just happens to be walking by and raises his eyebrow when he overhears the comment, but he doesn't stop. Timmy rolls his eyes. "....and secondly....I - I don't even need another reason, Pauly. I'm way too sober to have this conversation." He flicks his eyes over to Adonis' corner. Gone. _Damn_.

 

She shrugs and grabs his drink from him, taking a long, draining pull before flouncing off with a "Suit yourself!" tossed over her shoulder.

 

He stares after her and then looks down morosely into his nearly empty glass with a put upon sigh. His waiter chooses that moment to come back and slap his bill on the table without asking if he wants another.

 

"Perfect." he mutters.

 

Several of the other girls in their party come by the table and chat with him over the next fifteen minutes or so as he waits for his (suspiciously now absent?) waiter to reappear to settle his tab. He's just about ready to stick Pauline with his bill and find the nearest exit when feels the heat of a tall body looming close behind his shoulder.

 

He turns in his seat and is met with an eye full of shiny abs that momentarily stun him before he can gather the presence of mind to drag his eyes up to the bright fanged smile above. Merde.

 

"Hi, Timmy. I'm Armie. Pauline said you might need another drink?"

 

Timmy smiles, his cheeks burning and teeth in danger of chipping at the force of the clench in his jaw. He drops his eyes and glances past the wall of taut muscles blocking most of his view to catch Pauline at the bar wiggling her fingers in a little wave with a presumptuous wink.


	4. What He Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Submitted by: Anonymous  
> prompt for you: Armie is a big and powerful man, but loves to collapse like sheets of paper in the arms of his little tim. So much sex, pure, passionate, exciting and overwhelming with an Armie who, while and inside of tim, feels like dying in love.

Timmy dangles his feet in the water and fiddles with his phone while he waits for Armie to come back out. He hears the distant sound of a door closing, the rev of an engine as a car pulls away...then nothing for a few minutes. He twists around, wondering what's taking him so long.

 

Armie finally reappears, whisky in hand, dark circles under his eyes. He looks beat down as he flops into a lounge chair with a heavy sigh.

 

Tim turns back to his phone and closes all the screens methodically, giving Armie a minute to settle back and take a sip or two before speaking.

 

"How long is she gone for this time?" he asks quietly, looking at his feet in the water instead of turning to face him.

 

"I don't know...she said she just needs to be with her family for while. Could be a few days. Could be a week. She doesn't bother to tell me anymore."

 

Timmy's shoulders slump. "And the kids?"

 

"She said we'd face time."

 

Timmy hears a deep, shuddery inhale at the end of the statement that breaks his heart. He fights to keep his focus on his feet to give Armie privacy until he can get himself together.

 

"Should I go?"

 

He begins to think he isn't going to get an answer. No reply but the sound of crickets and ice clinking, then...."Can you please stay? I don't really want to be alone right now...."

 

Timmy finally breathes again. "You know I will." He summons every bit of strength he has to turn around and face the full brunt of his (boy)friend's heartache.

 

Armie looks...deflated. He's slumped in the lounge chair, feet planted on either side leaving an expanse of cushion open between his legs. He catches Timmy's eyes and pats the space in invitation.

 

Timmy stands and pads over to him, looks down questioningly until Armie takes his hand and tugs him over. He settle his thighs over Armie's and faces him in a pale shadow of the garden scene they filmed so long ago. The parallel isn't lost on either of them.

 

Armie doesn't let go of his hand as he drops his head back with another sigh and closes his eyes. "I'm just so tired. How did I get here, Tim?"

 

Tim drops his other hand to Armie's thigh and squeezes gently. "Tell me what you need."

 

Armie huffs a humorless laugh. "I don't even know."

 

Timmy squeezes harder, but doesn't say anything.

 

Armie finally lifts his head up and meets Timmy's concerned stare. "You. I need you. That's really the crux of this whole mess isn't it?" His eyes overflow and he swipes the tears away angrily.

 

Timmy is torn for a moment...wavering between apologizing for being the cause of such pain and wanting to reach out and comfort, but knowing it could just as easily make things worse. He bites his lip and drops his head, unable to watch Armie struggle for control.

 

"Hey..." he sniffs. "...I'm not blaming you."

 

Timmy looks back up and gives a weak smile. "I know." The words hold no conviction.

 

Armie cups his cheek. "I mean it."

 

Timmy melts forward, presses his cheek to Armie's chest. "I just want you to be happy."

 

Armie sets his drink aside and wraps both arms around Tim's shoulders in a tight squeeze. "You make me happy."

 

Tim snorts, "Not right now."

 

" _Yes_ , right now. You're here with me...in my arms where you belong, and that makes me happy."

 

"Then why are you crying?" The question is muffled by Armie's shirt.

 

He groans. "Because....because my selfishness is hurting others, and I don't know how to fix it without— Jesus, why does this have to be so fucking hard?!"

 

Timmy pushes up and looks at Armie as the deck lights come on. "It doesn't have to be...not tonight. Let me take care of you."

 

Armie reaches for him, pulls him down into a rough, tear-soaked kiss. "It scares me how much I need you." He whispers when they break apart for air, their foreheads pressed together.

 

"You know I'm not going anywhere."

 

Armie sniffs and smiles despite himself. "You always know what to say."

 

Timmy scooches closer, places his hands on either side of Armie's neck and slides them up into his hair. He digs his fingers in, tugging with just the right amount of pressure to make Armie simultaneously lift his head and gasp softly. "I'm serious."

 

Armie closes his eyes and swallows hard. "I know, baby...I know. I just hate that you're caught in the middle. I'm so tired of pretending. It's exhausting." He looks directly into Timmy's eyes. "I know this isn't easy for you either."

 

Tim quirks one side of his mouth up in a little grin. "No...but it's worth it when we can be alone." He kisses Armie again, more softly this time. "Come with me." He pushes up and holds his hand out.

 

Armie grabs his drink and takes Timmy's hand, docilely following him through the french doors into the heavy silence of his empty house. He falters as they enter the living room, thinking they're going to cuddle up on the couch, but Timmy keeps pulling him deeper...all the way back to what they've both begun to secretly refer to as 'his room'. He doesn't spare a glance at the master suite as they pass.

 

Timmy stops next to the bed and gently nudges the hand holding the whiskey up towards Armie's mouth, encouraging him to finish his drink as he begins slowly working at the buttons of his shirt. He tilts his head back and watches Armie swallow. "I want to make love to you...remind you why this is all worth it."

 

Armie looks at him over the rim of his glass before lowering it slowly. "I know it's worth it, Tim. You don't have to prove anything to me."

 

Tim just smiles as he undoes the final button. "Shhhh...don't begrudge me this moment. Let me."

 

Armie gives him a tired smile. "I love you so much."

 

Timmy raises up on his toes and kisses him softly as he takes his glass from him. "I know." He sets it aside and turns back to run his hands over Armie's naked chest, sliding them up to push his shirt back and off his shoulders. "And tonight you're going to feel exactly how much I love you."

 

Armie lets his eyes drift closed and sways gently as Tim's lips find his collar bone.

 

Tim's hands move to the zipper of his shorts and they soon join Armie's shirt in a rumpled heap at his feet. He cups him lightly through his underwear, finding him barely stirring yet, but there's no rush tonight. They have all the time in the world.

 

"Lay down for me. On your stomach, please."

 

Armie blinks as though coming out of a daze and moves to obey as Tim steps back and strips off his own tee and sweats.

 

Tim rummages in the side table as Armie settles himself, hugging a pillow beneath his chest with a soft sigh of contentment. He comes back to him with a little bottle of massage oil and gently lowers himself to straddle Armie's firm ass.

 

"I know you're probably tired of hearing this, but you're so beautiful, Armie." he says with quiet reverence as he warms a small pool of oil between his palms.

 

He can hear the smile in Armie's reply. "From you? Never." Armie groans with pleasure when Tim's hands brush over his shoulders, the first touch light and soothing.

 

"Then I'll never stop telling you. There isn't a moment that goes by that I'm not thinking about you. You know that?"

 

Armie hums in response.

 

"When we have to be apart, I have to stop myself from calling you just to hear your voice." He starts kneading the tension from his muscles.

 

"So I'm not the only one then?" Armie says lazily.

 

Tim laughs a little. "No...No, not at all." He finds a knot and works at it gingerly until he feels it give before moving on. "I'm more myself when I'm with you. Being away is...hard."

 

Armie lifts up a little. "I know, baby. I'm sorry."

 

Timmy presses him back down gently. "No, shhh...that's not — I just mean that I'm always counting the minutes until I can see you again...." He leans down and kisses the nape of Armie's neck, whispering "...that's all."

 

Armie smiles a little."Me too."

 

All goes quiet again as Timmy shifts lower, scooting down to Armie's thighs so that he can work on his lower back. After a long stretch of deep, slow breaths Timmy asks softly"Are you going to sleep on me?"

 

"Mmm...and miss this? No way." But he can't hide his sleepy slur.

 

Timmy decides it's time to take things up a notch. He hooks his fingers into Armie's waistband and tugs gently as he moves to the side to let Armie lift up and help him.

 

"Fun time over?" Armie grins over his shoulder, looking quite a bit more relaxed than when they first started.

 

"Oh, no...the fun part is just getting started."

 

Timmy pulls steadily at Armie's boxers as he wiggles his hips and they slide down over his thighs. He backs down and tugs them off his ankles before picking up the oil again and starting on his calves. "Have I ever told you how much I love these legs? So long...damn."

 

Armie huffs a soft laugh. "Nice to know all the growing pains were worth it. That feels... _so_ good, baby."

 

"Mm... _yeah_ , it does." Timmy whispers, his grin evident in his tone as he leans down and kisses the back of Armie'sknee.

 

After a moment..."You've always known haven't you?"

 

Timmy pauses his ascent to the powerful muscles of Armie's thighs. "Known what?"

 

Armie cants his head to the side and looks over his shoulder. "You always ask, but you already know what I need...just how to touch me...everything."

 

"I know you, Armie.... you're a part of me." he murmurs quietly with a little shrug, sliding his hands further up.

 

"I do have one question though." Armie turns a little more and looks pointedly at Timmy's boxers. "Why am I the only one naked?"

 

"I'm trying to maintain some self control here." he grins, working his fingers into the tense muscles.

 

Armie turns back around and rests his chin on the pillow again. "What if I don't _want_ you to have any self control tonight?"

 

Timmy's throat clicks with a dry swallow, his hands stilling again. "Is that what you want?" he almost can't get the words out.

 

Armie spreads his legs a little wider in answer, fully revealing the thickness of his length laying against the sheets between them.

 

"Fuck..." Timmy drawls out under his breath, shifting a little so his hands cup the sweet curve beneath each of Armie's cheeks. He can't resist spreading him a little more, his thumbs sliding up the inside of his crease, pulling the two halves apart to reveal that little wink of heaven so sweetly beckoning him to give in.

 

Armie shivers and purrs. "God, that feels amazing..."

 

"Oh, ma douce pêche, je viens de commencer." Timmy whispers barely above an exhale, lost in every touch he's giving.

 

He slides his hands back down and wraps one around his sack, the other around his length, feeling him stiffen in his slick grip immediately.

 

"You look so good like this, Armie...spread out for me."

 

"All for you, Tim." He whispers breathlessly, undulating his hips.

"Everything. Take it..."

 

Timmy whimpers softly as he watches his fingers slide over Armie, one thumb moving up to circle him languidly as the other hand keeps stroking.

 

"Please..."

 

Timmy doesn't need to ask what he wants, it's written in every flex of his muscles. He presses one finger in with slow deliberation and groans as Armie's body welcomes the intrusion.

 

Armie is almost on his knees now, hungry for it. Impatient. He pushes back wantonly and starts fucking himself on Tim's slender finger.

 

Timmy bends forward and kisses him with a soft, open mouth...slowly trailing over until he can tongue around where his finger meet Armie's loosening hole.

 

Armie bites his pillow and sobs with pleasure.

 

Tim works at him until he feels like he can take another, then pumps in and out, alternating fingers with tongue until he's a trembling mess on the brink of shattering in his hands. "I've got you, Armie...you can let go." He whispers against his skin.

 

"No...no, not yet - please, not yet." He pulls off Timmy's fingers with a gasp, leaving him puzzled for a moment until he turns over and beckons him with grabbing hands. "Off. Off off off. I need you. _Now_." He tugs impatiently at Timmy's boxers, now soaked through with his own pre-cum.

 

Tim hisses as he bounces free. He had been doing so well to ignore the ache in his cock and focus on Armie's pleasure alone, but now faced with Armie all but clawing at him to bring them together, he's a mess.

 

"Fuck...just...just a second. I need —"

 

"Shhh...I'm so close, baby. You've got me so close. Please, don't stop now."

 

Timmy crawls up over him as Armie draws his knees up and back. He's trembling, already on the brink even before the head of his cock slots easily into Armie's wet heat.

 

Armie roughly cups his ass and pulls him forward, crying out as Timmy enters him in one rough thrust before they both stop to draw a breath.

 

"If I move I'm gonna cum..." Timmy pants against his neck, every muscle taut and vibrating with the effort to hold on.

 

Armie wraps his arms around him and holds him tenderly, "Then don't move yet. Just...just be inside me. Goddamn, you feel so good." His dick twitches hard between them making Timmy laugh.

 

"Looks like I'm not the only one who needs a minute."

 

Armie laughs with him, "Shut up. You did this...that sinful fucking mouth of yours. Kiss me."

 

Timmy slides his mouth up Armie's throat and over his chin, peppering him with tiny kisses before opening wider against his lips, his tongue tentative...unsure of sharing the taste lingering there.

 

Armie catches his reluctance without a word being said. "You know that's never bothered me." He murmurs, licking into Timmy's mouth.

 

Timmy smiles and sucks at him, his tongue now searching and thrusting with a new hunger. He begins to move without even realizing it, their bodies in perfect sync. He pulls back just a little and looks down into Armie's wide blue eyes, brushing sandy damp strands back off his forehead. "You're perfect...so fucking perfect."

 

Armie's eyes soften and glaze over at the praise. "What have I ever done in my life to deserve you?" He says with a broken voice, pulling Timmy back down to his mouth as they start moving with more urgency. The friction between them suddenly hits him just right and he starts to spin out with Tim's tongue stroking his. He whimpers a warning and cums hard all over their bellies on the next stroke, his body tensing and jerking with every pulse.

 

Timmy breaks the kiss and cries out his name as Armie clenches around him and yanks him over the edge. His hips stutter and grind brutally with Armie holding him pressed tightly against his surging cock still trapped in the tight space between them.

 

Armie chants his name back to him in an answeing chorus, the quiet resonance wavering with every jolt to his nervous system.

 

Tim is the first to come down, the strength in his arms giving out and body shaking as he collapses almost his full weight on top of Armie's still shuddering form. He struggles to push back up to kiss Armie's chest and throat through the aftershocks until he feels him go slack beneath him, then pulls back with a lazy, sated curl of his lips. "Fucking perfect."

 

Armie half groans and laughs a little, throwing one hand over his watery eyes. "I haven't cum that hard in months." He peeks out from under his arm to find Timmy looking smug and rolls his eyes in feigned exasperation. "Proud of yourself?"

 

Timmy just grins and kisses him as he starts to pull out, but Armie traps him, looping his long legs around him and holding him there. "Not yet. Stay for a minute...please." The arm across his forehead drops to the mattress above his head with the release of a deep breath, his other coming around circle Timmy's sweaty shoulders.

 

Timmy sighs in relief, draping himself over Armie and snuggling into the crook of his neck and shoulder, "I'm _so_ good with that."

 

Armie takes another deep breath and hugs Timmy closer, feeling more at peace than he has in a very long time. "I love you, Timothée."

 

"Avec tout ce que je suis, Armand." He answers sleepily, fingers curling in the hair on Armie's chest as he begins to drift off.


	5. Suspicious Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Submitted by : Anonymous  
> Prompt in the beginning notes (too long for the summary box)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous : hi love!! thank u sm for allowing me to send my prompt/story idea! okay how ab one where its 2018 or it can even be ‘16 or ‘17 whatever u would like love, & elio&oliver are together & have been for 4+yrs & o wants to propose so hes working longer hours & coming home late but he told e that they switched his hours & e obvi doesn’t know the real reason so he’s suspicious & doesn’t wanna believe what he’s thinking so one day when o says he has to pick something up from work e found that weird bc he never had to do that before so he follows him & they end up at a restaurant (bc thats where they planned to meet) & o goes in & hugs someone e has never seen before then they start whispering/talking really close (ab the ring thats why he went in the first place, bc he had it came in & wanted to see it) then they both look on the either side of them & huddle off & e’s heart shatters right then & there & it hurts so bad he can’t help but sob in his car & on his way home & he starts packing all his stuff but stops & sits on the bed debating w himself if he should stay & talk it over w o ab what he can do to change & to make him only want him —— u can finish the rest :) but pls happy ending haha & if u don’t like this or its weird & makes u uncomfortable 1 im so sorry 2 i still love u & hope u have an amazing rest of u day x -p (ps sorry for the bad punctuation)

His smile hurts. Literally  _hurts_ , but Elio just nods and tells him it's fine and that they'll have a late dinner when he gets back. He gives it all of fifteen seconds after Oliver closes the door behind him before grabbing his keys to follow.

The determination to figure out what's been going on these last several weeks has been eating through him like acid. He clutches his stomach as he drops into the driver's seat and takes a deep breath before starting the engine and following at a safe distance.

When this all started he'd thought it was a little odd that they would change Oliver's TA hours after the schedule had already been set for the semester, but he dismissed it as bureaucratic bullshit. Sure, the longer hours had sucked, but he knew how important it was to Oliver to prove himself indispensable to his department heads. Their routines had shifted and everything flowed along fine for a while...until he started acting  _weird_.

Oliver was never one to show his nerves—even when he was anxious about something, he hid it so well behind his quiet confidence that you would never suspect—but Elio  _knew_  him. Inside and out.

He'd begun to catch him watching him with a  _look_  in his eyes on more than one occasion, and then he'd smile a little too big and play it off when Elio would raise a brow in question. "Nothing, you silly goose. I just love you." That casual shrug. Elio chalked it up to them having less time together than usual.

He seemed a little more fidgety in the quiet moments, too, like there was something on his mind that he couldn't quite bring himself to say just yet. More than once Elio had seen him even go so far as to open his mouth to speak, but then he'd just close it and remember something he needed to go do right away.

The affection between them hadn't diminished. If anything, Oliver actually seemed even more attentive and 'hands on' than usual of late, but Elio had begun to wonder if he was...making up for something? Ugly thoughts started taking shape in the back of his mind.

Ugly thoughts that had been plaguing him, taking on a life of their own in the last week. Even now as he tries to keep his hands from shaking on the steering wheel, he can feel their claws sinking into him.

_No...no. Not going there._

He turns on the radio and breathes deeply as the soft strains of  _Clair de Lune_ swell around him. Ahead of him, Oliver's tail lights disappear around a corner. This  _definitely_  isn’t the direction of the college.

_Shit._

Elio stretches his neck to follow as he's stopped at the light, but quickly realizes he needn’t have worried about losing his trail. Oliver parks along the curb just a block down and hops out to jog back to the little romantic trattoria that Elio  _just_  mentioned wanting to go to last week.

_What the actual...?_

There's a bounce in Oliver's step and a huge smile on his face. He looks almost giddy to Elio as he cruises past, so wrapped up in whatever he’s doing that he doesn’t even notice Elio’s car.

He swallows bile and turns his head away as he slinks down the block looking for a parking spot. Even though it takes less than two minutes, his heart rate has sky rocketed to the point that he doubts his ability to be able to walk on steady legs back to peek in the windows of the restaurant…

…but he's come this far, and he can't stand this anymore.

Elio clings to the brick wall as he makes his way to the entrance. It feels like the sidewalk is growing under his feet, like one of those jarring long shots in a Hitchcock movie, putting his destination ever farther away. He hardly sees the people passing him, barely registers hear their laughter as he gets closer to the plate glass windows.

_Please don’t let it be this..._

Elio had let his worst fears consume him the moment Oliver opened his mouth to tell him that he needed to ‘run and pick something up from work’. He's a  _terrible_  liar.

Watching him head for the restaurant had all but confirmed it for him, but Elio  _needs_  to see it with his own eyes. He braces one hand on the brick and takes a few seconds to center himself before looking through the glass...and that's when his whole world comes crashing down.

Oliver is releasing a handsome older gentleman from a very familiar-looking hug. They step apart, each one holding the other's shoulder for a moment more as they continue their greeting. Oliver is  _beaming_.

Elio feels the bile rise in his throat again as his knees turn to water. He ducks out of sight, slamming his back against the wall and fighting the overwhelming urge to flee blindly into the dark. Instead, he holds on to the wall and chokes on a curse as he moves back to have another look.

_It's not real. It can’t be real._

They're huddled together. So  _close_. The man is now squeezing Oliver's shoulder as he's bent over something on the bar in between them. He can see every detail of Oliver's face as he looks back up at the man with a big watery smile and tears in his eyes.

_God, no..._

Elio barely makes it to the garbage can before he throws up.

People on the street give him a wide berth as he holds on to the edge of the can for dear life. Everything is  _spinning_.

***

He doesn't even remember making it back to his car to drive home. He sobs uncontrollably, stumbling through the front door with the same thoughts scraping away at his insides over and over again until he feels like he might be sick again.

“Cheating  _bastard_ ,” he spits out. ”He doesn't love me...he  _never_  fucking loved me. Four years. This can't be  _happening_.”

He’s on auto-pilot now, yanking his suitcase out of the closet and tearing through their drawers, grabbing random things and throwing them towards the bed in a fit of blind rage.

“I gave him everything—EVERYTHING! I left my home for him. My family!”

His stomach dry heaves as his eyes fall on the stupid matching Hawaiian shirts they'd picked up on their last getaway.

_Fuck._

The whole trip had been such a farce. At the time, it seemed like everything that could go wrong  _did_ , but they'd laughed and made the most of it. The terrible weather, the seedy hotel that had looked so promising for the price on the website they'd booked through. They didn't even get to see the beach because it had stormed the whole time. In the end, they'd spent most of the time in bed fucking and watching old movies and ordering room service.

Elio pulls Oliver's shirt out of the drawer and sobs into it, remembering how hard they'd laughed when they bought them in the gift shop after checkout. A cheesy reminder of the vacation that almost wasn't.

Elio spins on his heel and sinks to the bed, the shirt still clutched to his streaming face.

“How could he do this to me? Why am I not enough?” he blubbers through sobs. Was he too skinny? Too young? Had Oliver gotten  _bored_ with him?

He doesn't even hear the door when it clicks open

"Elio?"

Oliver is standing in the doorway when he lowers the shirt, a look of dumbstruck horror on his face as his eyes dart around the mess of clothes and books flung everywhere.

His eyes finally light on the open suitcase before coming back to Elio's red, tear-streaked face. He drops his keys and staggers over to him, falling to his knees with hands outstretched to cup his face.

"Elio, what's this? What's going on?"

Elio sobs and jerks his face away.

Oliver takes the shirt from him and tries to wipe his tears away, but Elio flinches back. He's not having  _any_ of it. He flops over onto his side and buries his face in the messy covers. "I saw you,” he mutters, voice muffled. He feels Oliver's hands tugging at him to turn him around.

"Saw…what? Elio. Talk to me."

He turns and glares at him. “I saw you with him!"

Oliver's face blanches. "Oh shit..."

Elio watches him swallow and start to pull his hands back. It's all he can take. “‘Oh shit?’ That’s it?!” He buries his face again and screams into the blankets. "Why, Oliver?!"

The bed shifts and he feels Oliver's body press against his shaking back, strong arms around him so that he can't escape.

"No!" He struggles, but it's useless. Oliver’s so much bigger than him and he's already exhausted from all that he's been through in the last two hours.

"Stop,” Oliver tries over Elio’s struggling. “Elio—stop!”

“You’re hurting me!”

“Then stop fighting and listen to me!"

Elio goes slack in his arms, all the fight gone out of him. "Just tell me why,” he says miserably, snot catching in his throat.

Oliver runs a hand through the damp curls sticking to his temple and brushes them back before kissing his sweaty skin. Elio cringes and sobs harder.

"You've got this all wrong. I wasn't lying to you—I did have to pick something up. God, I'm so sorry. I've never been good at keeping secrets..." He sighs. "The man you saw....he's not—Elio. Fuck. This is not how I wanted to do this."

Oliver sits up abruptly and rakes his hands through his hair before rising from the bed to pull Elio back up into a sitting position.

"Elio, that man was my family’s jeweler. He's my mother's cousin, in fact. I've been...working with him on something," he says calmly, sinking to his knees in front of him once again.

Elio tilts his head and wipes his nose, brows knitting together.

Oliver looks down at their hands and sighs heavily. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black box, clutches it tight before looking up.

"I wanted this to be perfect. This...this is not how I imagined it going," he says, smiling weakly.

The world shifts from spinning to slow motion as understanding begins to dawn and push away the heartbreak in Elio's face. He pales in horror at the ugly thoughts that he'd harbored only minutes ago.

Oliver pops open the box. "Elio?"

"No. No, no, no... This—Oliver?"  His eyes are wide and red-rimmed, shimmering with tears.

"No?"

Elio grabs Oliver's hands as he starts to close the box. "No! I mean...no—me. God. Me…I ruined it, didn't I?"

Oliver looks down at the simple twisted band and gives a sad little laugh. "Well...I  _did_  book us a table for Friday night." He looks back up at him as he sinks back onto his heels. "That's why we met there. Two birds, you know?" He takes a big, shuddery breath. "Fuck, Elio...I'm sorry. I really wanted to surprise you." His hands drop to his lap, one playing idly with the lid of the box.

Elio slides down onto the floor on his knees and put his hands over Oliver's. "No, Oliver. I'm sorry. It's my fault," he hiccups. "All the late hours...and you...I thought—"

"I started tutoring," he lifts the box up with a shrug, "to buy this."

Elio scrambles up into Oliver's lap and buries his face in his neck. "Please forgive me." He's crying again, his body shaking with sobs. Oliver sets the ring aside and wraps both arms tight around him.

"Shh, there's nothing to forgive. I should have known better. You're too smart for your own good, baby. I suck at being secretive, and I can only imagine how it must’ve looked. I just...wanted to make this special. It's been a long time coming." He's babbling now, burying kisses in Elio's hair. Elio can feel Oliver’s tears on his face.

Elio sniffs loudly and pulls back gripping Oliver's shoulders with all the strength he has left. "God, please just ask me. Please.  _Please_ , Oliver."

Oliver smiles and takes Elio’s hands from his shoulders, kissing the middle knuckle on each before picking up the box again and holding it open between them. Elio holds his breath as Oliver locks eyes with him. "Elio Samuel Perlman, will you please marry—"

"YES!" Elio shouts as he tackles him onto his back with his answer. Oliver yelps in surprise when his back hits the floor; he doesn't even have time to draw a breath before Elio is kissing him.

After a long moment of happy sobs and hungry kisses, they finally ease into tender caresses with Oliver holding him close to his chest as he settles down. "Elio...how could you ever think that I would—? I would never..."

Elio sinks further down into him, trying to disappear by pressing his face hard into his shoulder. "I don't know. I just...I don't know." He sits up abruptly and scrubs both hands down his face before meeting Oliver's eyes. "Jesus, I'm a mess." He sniffs again.

"You're perfect," Oliver whispers with tenderness, squeezing his hips between both hands. "Don't ever change."

Elio melts back down to him for more kisses, and the mess around them is soon forgotten as the clothes they're wearing join the scattered piles.


	6. Three Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Submitted by : Anonymous  
> PLEASE write a “The only way you’re getting off is against my thigh” blurb or one shot for charmie I would LOVE YOU! and obviously it has to be armie saying that to desperate mess timmy

Armie walks back into Elio’s bedroom when he hears Luca call ‘cut’. He and Sayombhu are already in a heated discussion about the change in the quality of light as clouds rolled in at the end of the scene - they don’t notice him, but  _he_  notices Timmy’s absence.

“Where’d he go?”

Luca waves a hand in the general direction of the hallway, too absorbed in watching the playback and arguing with Sam to answer.

Armie furrows his brow. Something isn’t right. Timmy wouldn’t just leave in the middle of a shot.

He steps out into the hallway and tilts his head, listening. A faint noise catches his attention before Luca and Sam walk out and head for the stairs. He walks over to the window and leans against the frame as though just casually waiting for more instruction.

When he’s certain they’ve gone, he quietly opens the door to the room he heard the noise come from. It’s dark, still, hot as hell, crammed with all the furniture and props that aren’t needed.

“Timmy?” he whispers.

A frustrated sigh greets from behind a hulking wardrobe. “I just need a minute, okay?”

Armie closes the door behind him and picks his way carefully through the dim chaos.

Timmy has his back to the room, both hands planted on the windowsill, his head hung low in between. His breathing is off.

“Hey- you okay?”

Timmy huffs. “Define ‘okay’.”

Armie touches his shoulder and gently tries to turn him around. His skin is hot, damp.

“ _Don’t_.”

“Tim…what’s wrong?” He’s very concerned now.

Timmy shoves himself back almost angrily and stands up to face him, his face flushed, curls sticking to his forehead.

Armie doesn’t immediately register the problem until his eyes drop to his tented boxers….then he grins. “Wow.”

Timmy rolls his eyes and leans his ass back on the sill, crossing his arms and ankles. “Not helping.”

Armie laughs and perches lightly next to him, hands clasped in front of his crotch. “Sorry. I just…why?”

Timmy shrugs awkwardly. “ _Three takes_ , Armie. For three takes I had to get in the headspace of you walking in and finding me…shit. Doesn’t matter. I think I ruined it on the last one anyway. I was so mad at myself that I just…flopped on the bed.”

Armie’s eyebrows had been steadily rising as Timmy explained the problem. He manages not to laugh, but he can’t stop his smile. “Well, for what it’s worth, Luca didn’t seem unhappy. They’re downstairs arguing about whether to break until the rain passes.”

Timmy scrunches his face and nods without saying anything else.

Armie is quiet for a second, his eyes darting back to the front of Timmy’s boxers despite his best efforts not to look. “So…”

Timmy gives him a sideways glance. “I’ll be fine. You can go.”

Armie nods and looks off into the room, chewing at his bottom lip and weighing his words carefully. “What if I don’t want to?”

Timmy sighs. “ _Fuck_ …this is awkward.” He scrubs his hands over his face roughly and then pushes off the sill.

Armie reaches out quickly and grabs his elbow. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Timmy’s eyes move up from the hand on his arm to Armie’s face.

Armie slowly pulls him closer, his other hand dropping to Tim’s hip just above the waistband of his boxers.

Timmy doesn’t fight him, but Armie can feel his entire body stiffen as he pulls him flush to his body and pushes one thigh between his legs.

Timmy hisses softly and drops his forehead to Armie’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Helping?”

Timmy opens his mouth against his skin, his breath hot and a little ragged as Armie squeezes his hip and forces his thigh further between Tim’s.

“Take them off.” Armie says softly, releasing him.

Tim looks up at him, his eyes hazy…a little confused.

“Your shorts. Take them off.”

Timmy looks down and hooks his thumbs into the elastic, hesitating for a second before he does as he’s told. They pool around his feet as his cock bobs with his heartbeat, a thick drop forming at the tip right before Armie’s eyes.

Armie waits for him to look back up, but he doesn’t. He just shuffles his feet a little and brings one hand up to rub at his forehead again. “Armie, I —”

“Shhh. Come here.”

Timmy keeps his eyes down, but he obeys, planting his feet on either side of Armie’s as he resumes their previous position. He shivers as Armie reaches between them and hikes up the hem of his shorts, guiding Timmy’s flushed cock up beneath them against his taut muscle.

Timmy whimpers and mouths at his shoulder, his hands gripping Armie’s sides as the sensitive underside of his dick comes in contact with Armie’s sweat-damp skin.

Armie leans down and whispers against his ear. “Tell me…what was it that made you so hard, Timmy? Touching yourself, or the idea of me  _watching_  you touch yourself?”

Timmy lets out a shuddery little moan, his fingers finding Armie’s sides and digging in to keep his balance as he starts grinding himself against his thigh.

Armie covers one of Timmy’s hands with his own and slides it down to his already more than half hard cock. He presses Tim’s palm down and rubs at himself through the yellow fabric, quickly reaching his full thickness.

“Do you want me to watch you get yourself get off, Tim?” he continues, relishing the fact that Tim seems incapable of speech right now.

Timmy nods in short little jerks and scrapes his teeth over Armie’s skin.

“I want that, too…very much.” Armie purrs, releasing the pressure on Tim’s hand to tug at the waistband of his swim shorts.

Tim’s head turns, his curls tangling in Armie’s chest hair as he watches him pull himself out and start stroking languidly.

Armie slides his other hand down to Timmy’s ass cheek and presses forward, squeezing, encouraging him to grind harder. He can feel the wetness gathering on his thigh as Timmy watches him jack himself off.

“You like that?” Armie’s heart is racing, his head swimming with the combined smell of their sweat and sex.

“Yes.” Timmy whispers shakily.

“Want to watch me come?” he growls, lips buried in Timmy’s hair.

“Oh fuck…” Timmy tries to shove a hand between them to get at his own cock.

“ _Nuh-uh_. This time it’s my turn. The only way  _you’re_  getting off is on my thigh.” Armie teases, gripping him tight to close the space between even more.

Timmy whines and moves his hand to instead cover Armie’s as he starts grinding harder and faster.

“Not enough.”

Armie shifts his thigh higher and Timmy gasps. “Ohfuck _yeah_. Yeah.”

“Gonna come on me?”

Timmy pants and tenses. “You…you want me to come on you?”

“Yes. I want to feel it….I want to walk around on set with your cum dried under my shorts. Our secret.” His strokes have steadily gotten shorter and faster, words coming with more effort.

Timmy drools against his chest, eyes locked on their hands moving over Armie’s cock.

“Armie…”

“I’m close…so close.” Armie whispers, his voice broken with the rhythm of his stroke.

The sound of voices in the hall reaches them. Luca is looking for them, calling their names.

“Come, baby…come for me…” Armie grits out, the excitement of possibly getting caught pushing him over the edge.

Timmy grunts and thrusts hard as he watches the first thick streams of Armie’s spunk spurt between their fingers. Within seconds he’s coming in quick pulses right into the groove of Armie’s groin.

Both of them are nearly silent as they ride it out together. Breath held, muscles tensed.

Timmy starts to melt a little, his grip over Armie’s hand relaxing. They both laugh quietly.

“That was…insane.”

“Shh.”

The door opens a crack and they go completely still until it closes again.

Timmy looks up at Armie with wide eyes. They hear other doors being opened and closed further down the hall and bite their lips to keep from laughing.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” Timmy whispers, barely audible.

Armie dips his head down and kisses him softly. “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks now…”

Timmy grins. “Weeks?”

Armie nods. “Since I saw you arching your back at that first piano practice.”

Timmy snorts and slaps a hand over his mouth.

Armie’s eyes sparkle playfully. “Good thing we still have a few weeks left.”


	7. Bros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you please write a tiny something about kid Timmy and teen Armie ? A couple fluffy sentences would be enough please .

He's been watching for about half an hour now. The sun is brutal today and he's had his fill of sweating his sack off in competition for space in the small skate park, so he'd decided to park it in the shade and watch the show-offs from a distance.

The first time he saw the kid get knocked down he didn't give it too much thought. Tough break, but kind of a right of passage in their little skater clique. The second and third time... _that_ started pissing him off.

He was tiny in comparison to the rest of the bozos out there, but he kept fighting for his space and actually managed to get a few decent tricks in before he was crowded out again by a greasy-haired punk a full foot taller than him. It looked like he was actually gonna stand his ground for a minute till the jackass made a lunge at him. _Dick_.

Armie cracks his neck and watches him shuffle off into the grass and drop his board before kicking it in obvious frustration. He'd given up.

"Shit..."

He hated to see that. The little guy had potential, but he was never gonna get anywhere with these territorial posers shoving him around.

Mind made up, he picks up his own board and hits up the slushie stand on the sidewalk before making his way over to him.

"Hey." 

Bright amber eyes just this side of tearing up glare up at him in confusion before landing on the cherry slushie he held out to him.

"It's rough out there today, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess." he wipes his nose on his sleeve, but doesn't make a move toward the offered cup.

"Go ahead. It's not gonna bite you."

He watches a skinny hand reach up tentatively and take the offered drink before flopping down next to him and stretching his long legs out like he owns the place. "You're pretty decent when you can get a run." He slurps his drink. "I'm Armie, by the way."

"Thanks. I'm Timmy...uh, Tim."

"Timmy Tim?" he laughs, but feels bad when the kid's cheeks flush a bright red. "You new around here? Haven't seen you before."

Timmy stops sucking at his straw and nods. "Yeah. Just moved here from New York. Fuckin' hot here."

Armie's brow shoots up. _Kid's got a mouth_... "You get used to it."

Timmy snorts derisively. "Doubt that." he mumbles as he swipes away sweaty curls from his forehead.

"You know...it's a lot cooler and less crowded when you come early. That's what I usually do. Don't know why I even bothered today though. I knew these assholes would already be here showing off." he waves the  hand holding his drink over at a group of giggling girls trying too hard to look like they aren't interested in the show being put on for them. "They're not actually here to skate. It's like some kinda stupid pageant or something. None of these turds are serious."

Timmy relaxes a little next to him and nods. "Yeah...I'm kinda getting that. They always like this?"

"Pretty much. My buddy Nick and I come here in the mornings and actually skate though. None of this..." he gestures towards a guy fussing with his carefully swept hair "... _crap_."

Timmy laughs and lays back on his elbows, crossing his ankles in a mirror image of Armie's confident pose.

"You know...you could join us. Maybe show me how you do that funky little kick flip. Never seen it done like that before."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, man - that was _cool_."

" 'Kay. Yeah, I could do that. When are you comin' back?"

Armie looks back down at him as he picks up his board and dusts off the seat of his shorts. "Tomorrow. 'Bout eight. That too early for you?"

"Nah, man. I'll be here."

"Cool." He turns to walk away.

"Hey!"

Armie turns back and squints against the bright sun.

"Thanks, man." Timmy salutes him with his slushie.

Armie cracks a wide grin. "Yeah. No worries, man. See you tomorrow, Timmy Tim."

 


	8. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drama school A/U prompt requested by @maraskolnikova in which our sassy little Timmy Tim is 18 (and so much more than meets the eye) and Armie (24) ...well, Armie is flummoxed, but also...Hello, Wonderwall?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd  
> Sooo many italics *facepalm* sorry...

It's infuriating. Armie sits back and crosses his arms, barely concealing an involuntarily eye roll as Tim nails it -- again. Not for the first time, he wonders what the hell he's even doing here. The kid can't even grow a proper mustache, but he's acting every one of them under the table with seemingly little to no effort. Doesn't matter if it's a death scene or a proposal, everything that Mr. G tosses out with a casual flick of his wrist is met with the same level of fluid perfection.

"Okay - now, with _anger_..."

He watches the subtle shift in Tim's face and mutters under his breath, "Jesus...."

Heads turn to look at him, but Tim doesn't miss a beat. Everyone claps as Mr G bows and elegantly waves Tim back to his seat. Armie would swear he has hearts in his eyes.

Tim flops down in his seat next to him like a wet noodle and grins pointedly at Armie with raised brows as if to say ' _Top that_ ' just as Mr G calls him up.

"No...not today. Got a sore throat." he coughs lightly. Yeah, as far as excuses go it's pretty lame, but there's just no way he's following _that_. Armie catches Tim's head shake from the corner of his eye. He stews silently through the rest of the class, his knee bouncing as he contemplates the merits of either following through (that would be a first) or just disappearing altogether without notice (definitely _not_ a first).

"Alright. That is all for today. Good work, everyone. Armand, may I speak with you for a moment, per favore."

Armie takes a deep breath and shuffles over, bracing himself for the inevitable ' _I don't really think this class is a good fit for your skill level at this point_ ' speech.

"Armand..." -- always ' _Armand_ ', never ' _Armie_ '.  His name rolls off Mr G's tongue with a soft burr as he puts one arm around his shoulders and gently leads him away from the rest of the class noisily gathering their things to leave. "...why do let him intimidate you?"

Armie stops short and opens his mouth to argue.

"No, no, no...don't deny it. I can feel the energy, the vibes rolling off of you when he's up there. You have so much inside you to give, yet you sit by and choose to instead envy _him_. Why?"

Armie furrows his brow and looks down at his feet until he can get his temper under control. "I would think that's pretty obvious." he pouts.

"Armand. Look to me." He waits for him to meet his eyes. Armie sees nothing but kindness there. "You are just as gifted as Timothée, I see it...but you keep it locked away like hoarding treasure. We have to find a way to open you up, no?"

He's stunned. Him? Gifted? At twenty-four he'd already been through an embarrassing number of acting classes, but none of the teachers had ever given him more than a dismissive ' _keep at it_ '.

"Will you do something for me?"

With his chest still full and glowing from the compliment, he nods dumbly. "Of course."

"I want you to work with Timothée outside the class over the next couple of weeks."

"You can't be serious."

"I am, I am! I think you two could learn a lot from each other." he says enthusiastically, giving his shoulder a friendly pat.

"What could he possibly learn from me?"

Mr G just grabs his upper arm and squeezes gently with a paternal smile, then picks up his bag and leaves.

 

*******

 

Armie stands in front of Timmy at the end of yet another class he couldn't bring himself to participate in and scratches at the back of his neck. "So, uh..."

"Yeah?" Tim smiles brightly up at him, smacking his gum.

"Mr G, uh....he suggested that maybe we work together a little outside of class."

Tim's smile widens. "Did he now?" he pops a bubble.

Armie rolls his eyes, "Can you...not? What are you twelve? That's obnoxious."

Tim leans to the side and launches his wad of gum into the trash can behind Armie with stunning accuracy. "You think I'm obnoxious?" he grins amid a cloud of watermelon scented breath.

"I think gum chewing is obnoxious. Now what do you think?" he answers irritably.

"About?" he's obviously toying with him.

Armie sighs. "About working together."

Tim shrugs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans. "Doesn't surprise me. I mean, I _have_ been on Law and Order. Twice."

Armie rolls his eyes and bends to pick up his things. "Wow. _So much_ experience. Why aren't you teaching the class then?" he shoulders his bag and turns away. "You know what? Forget about it."

Tim jumps in front of him and puts a hand on his chest. "Hey, wait! I'm just messing with you. Stop, stop." he laughs.

Armie looks down at the hand on his chest and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry." he pulls back. "Look, he talked to me too. I don't know what he's up to, but he gave me this." He rummages around in his backpack and pulls out a book with a bent and faded cover, phone cord all tangled up in the pages. He yanks it off, shoves it back down into the bag and holds the book out to Armie. Call Me by Your Name, André Acimen. "He wants us to read it. Highlighted some passages he wants us to try. They're not exactly scenes, I guess, but he said we should improvise."

Armie looks dubious. "When did he give this to you?"

"Last week. I'm already done with it. Your turn."

Armie taps the book against his palm and watches Tim's face thoughtfully as he processes the information that Mr G actually approached Tim before he came to him.

"And what did you think about it?"

Tim's cheeks pink up a little as he looks everywhere but at Armie's face and answers vaguely. "It's...uh...it's really good. Different."

Armie squints, suspicious now. "Different _how_ , exactly?"

Tim finally looks him in the eye, for once not fidgeting or playing the cocky card. "Just read it, okay. You'll see."

Armie nods and eyes him warily.

"Look, if after you've read it you're not feeling it, or it makes you uncomfortable, we don't have to do this. I mean, it's not required or anything, but I _would_ like to work with you."

"Yeah, okay..." he draws out the words, his tone clear that he's already half way out the door on the whole idea.

"Hey, gimme your phone."

"What? No! Why?"

Tim rolls his eyes. "So I can put my number in... _duh_? You can call me when you're finished."

Armie fishes it out of his pocket and hands it over reluctantly.

"I'm free on Saturday." Tim says as he types his number in then hands it back.

Armie looks at the book again. Not too thick, two days. "Okay. I'll let you know." He then glances at his phone, brows shooting up. "Timmy Tim?"

Tim shrugs, "See ya, playa." and swoops out of the classroom.

_The fuck was that?_ Armie laughs to himself as he stuffs the book in his bag.

 

*******

 

Armie paces the floor of his apartment all morning. He'd read the entire book the first night and still didn't think he'd had enough time to process the story on the whole, much less the 'scenes' that Mr G wanted them to work together. Seriously, how is he supposed to run through an emotional dialog with Bubblicious breath 'Timmy Tim'?

He rubs his eyes hard with the fingers of one hand, then looks down at his phone and reminds himself that 'Timmy Tim' is also the prodigy who brought tears to his eyes two weeks ago with the monolog from Death of a Salesman. He presses the button and bangs his head lightly on the door frame while he waits for the call to go through.

Tim answers "Yo." on the second ring between smacking sounds. 

"Spit the gum out, Tim."

"Hammer! 'Sup buddy?" He draws out his name, his smile evident even over the phone. "You finished it?"

"Yep."

"And....?"

"And...I dunno. It's, uh, it's a lot."

"So...you don't wanna do it?" 

Armie squeezes his eyes shut for a second. Did he actually sound a bit crestfallen? "No. I mean, yeah, I do...I just..."

"You scared?"

"Scared? What? No!" Why does this kid have such a knack for knocking him off center?

"Alright then. Steam around 4? I need to caffinate for my show tonight. We can talk about it."

Armie's head spins with Tim's shift from playful to assertive. "Y-yeah. Okay." he stammers.

"See ya."

The call disconnects and Armie stands there looking at his phone like it just slapped him.

 

********

 

He's early. Even after making notes and cleaning his apartment from top to bottom to try and calm his nerves, he'd left for the coffee shop far too soon and had ended up circling the block to kill time.

He's on his second Americano when Tim saunters in, ratty backpack slung over one shoulder, throwing casual waves to several employees who are obviously very familiar with his presence. ' _Tim-o! Sweet Tea! Wassup man_?' He watches, bemused, as they hand over what he can only assume is his regular order without him even asking for it.

He sees Tim scan the room for him and raises a hand from his little corner table, getting a chin lift and a big grin in return as Tim weaves his way through the people.

"You came."

"Well, yeah. Did you think I wouldn't?"

Tim drops his backpack unceremoniously and kicks it under the table. "I had my doubts. You seemed pretty spooked."

"I wasn't _spooked_ okay, just...taken aback? It's kind of heavy material to start out with, don't you think?"

Tim pauses stirring packets of sugar into his iced tea and cocks his head with a confused scrunch of brows. "No." he laughs quietly like Armie just said the strangest thing ever.

"No? Okay..."

Tim sets his spoon aside and looks at Armie directly. "It's part of the job isn't it? You have to be ready for whatever you're given."

Armie is rendered momentarily speechless by such succinct words of wisdom. He looks Tim up and down in bewilderment trying to fit the words with the person who just spoke them. Baggy sweats barely hanging on to his skinny ass, oversized shirt nearly exposing one shoulder, multiple chains around his slender neck...all topped off with a ridiculous hot pink ball cap. He shakes his head slowly. "How long have you been doing this?"

"For a minute." Tim answers coyly, ginning over the rim of his glass.

Armie rolls his eyes.

Tim takes another sip and sets his tea down again as the playful look fades from his eyes. "I started when I was a kid. My mom took me to auditions for commercials, plays, bit parts...even some modeling. I can't remember a time when I wasn't doing something with acting to be honest."

Armie processes this, annoyed with the changling sitting across from him for not only referring to himself like he's grown up ( _since I was a kid...?!_ ) but for having had such an early start. What would it have been like to have had such supportive parents cheering him on? Armie didn't find the courage to break away to pursue his own dreams until he was sixteen, apparently too late in the game if what he's seeing in front of him is to be believed. "So why aren't they knocking down your door now?" _Shit._ He immediately regrets the words even as they're still ringing in the air between them, the unnecessary barb registering fully in a flicker of Tim's eyes. "I'm sorry."

Tim shakes his head and gives a little smile, not nearly as bright as his usual. "Nah...it's okay. That's a fair point." he shrugs. "It's a fickle business."

"No, Tim. I'm an asshole. You didn't deserve that."

Tim grins and looks up at him from beneath his lashes. "I kinda did though."

They both laugh and Tim leans down to pick up his backpack. "You wanna just...I dunno, talk about the book a little? We don't have to dive in if you're not ready."

"Yeah. I think so. I'm still kinda...processing?"

Tim nods and pulls out a battered spiral notebook out, flips through it, and hands it over to Armie.

"What's this?"

"Just some thoughts about the material. Notes on where I think the characters are coming from. Thought you might like to see my take on it."

Armie accepts the notebook with a look of wonder. He's never known anyone else but himself to do that.

Tim blushes a little and sits back.

Armie drags his eyes away from Tim and down to the pages. He's already engossed after the first two sentences and doesn't look up again for a solid fifteen minutes. 

Tim sits quietly for a while and then leaves to go get himself a refill, returning from chatting with the barista only when he notices Armie's head lift again.

Armie watches him nervously approach the table again with a whole new level of respect.  _Is he blushing?_ He holds up the notes and meets Tim's eyes. "Wow." Yep. _Definitely_ blushing.

Tim folds down into his chair, his knee already bouncing before he's even fully settled. "Yeah. I, uh, had a few ideas."

"A few?" Armie waves the notebook with raised brows. "Tim, you could've written Elio _yourself_."

Tim furrows his brow and looks down at his hands. "I don't know about that, but...I mean, he's relatable. It was easy to see beneath his skin."

Armie nods thoughtfully and sits back with folded arms. "And Oliver?"

"He was more of a mystery...I was kinda hoping you might have some thoughts on that."

Armie studies him for a few seconds then reaches down to his own pack and slides a tidy journal across the table without comment.

Tim grins up at him and opens it without hesitation.

Armie doesn't move. He can't. He's mesmerized by every flicker of expression moving across Tim's face as he devours each line of his perfect, even script. By the time Tim has finished, he's gnawed his thumbnail down to the quick.

Tim looks up and sits back with wide eyes. "We have _got_ to do this. You know that, right?"

Armie nods silently, his teeth still working at his thumbnail.

They spend the next three hours interrupting each with new ideas and insights into each of the scenes they've decided to tackle first. Armie doesn't catch a glimpse of 'Timmy Tim' even once throughout the entire discussion.

By the time Tim checks his Casio and realizes he has to go, neither one of them is quite ready to part ways. "You should come to my show."

Armie had forgotten all about him mentioning it earlier, and it takes a minute for his brain to register what he's talking about. "What? Oh...yeah." He's distracted. "Tim, can I ask you something?" he asks, still trying to puzzle out the dueling personalities that Tim seems to flip between from moment to moment.

"Sure." He answers without looking up from stuffing his notebook into pack.

Armie catches the tension in his shoulders even though he went for casual with his answer. He shakes his head and thinks better of it. "Never mind. Can I just follow you there?"

Tim visibly relaxes. "Yep. Only a couple of blocks away. You ready?"

Armie gathers his stuff and jumps up. "Yep. Let's go, Sweet Tea."

 

*******

 

The club is tiny, dingy, and pungent with the lingering funk of stale beer. Armie takes it all in while Tim slips backstage and stows his pack. The house lights are still up, the staff prepping for the doors to open at nine. Tim hops up on stage and talks to several guys setting up equipment before leaping down and bouncing back to Armie with bright eyes and an excess of nervous energy.

"What am I in for, T?"

Tim laughs. "Not much. It's a short set tonight. Just getting the crowd warmed up for the main attraction." He shifts restlessly on the balls of his feet, yanking one pant leg up on his calf.

Armie can't help but smile. "You really like this, huh?" He gestures around at the club as loud hip hop starts blasting from the speakers and the lights go dim.

Tim nods and bites his lip with a big grin. "Get a drink. Hang out for a while." He winks and goes off to prepare as people start filing in.

Armie wanders around, completely out of his element. He gets a whisky and finds a spot to the side of the stage out of the way of the gathering crowd. By the time the speakers fall silent and Tim's set gears up, he's pleasantly buzzed.

His jaw drops when Tim takes the mic. The crowd goes nuts. He's fluid, sassy, completely at home up there. He _shines_. Armie is immediately caught up in Tim's energy,  laughing at his lyrics one minute and hypnotized by his moves the next. When his partner takes over after a comical proclamation of _'I'm just gonna dance this one._ ' Armie nearly chokes on his drink giggling.

Tim flails and writhes, obviously enjoying himself and the reactions from the crowd. His running man is hilarious,  but his enthusiasm is polarizing and Armie can't look away.

By the time they've wrapped up, the crowd is hyped. Music blasts from the overhead speakers again as they disappear backstage and Armie is at a loss what to do as the next band comes out to set up. He stops by the bar on his way to the front doors after waiting for a few minutes and leaves his glass with one last glance at the stage. Tim is still nowhere to be found. He figures he's forgotten about him and steps out onto the deafening quiet of the sidewalk with his ears ringing and his cheeks aching from smiling so much. He hasn't made it more than 20 feet down the sidewalk befor he hears Tim running up behind him.

"Yo! Wait up, man!"

Armie turns and waits for him.

Tim's eyes are over bright, his upper lip beaded with sweat. "What'd you think?" he sniffs. He's still radiating stage energy.

Armie laughs. "That was pretty incredible." he admits.

Tim's smile couldn't be any bigger. "Yeah?"

Armie nods and then shakes his head a little with a big grin. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Tim lifts his chin, his expression bordering on smug, but it crumbles when he starts laughing. "Nah. Just having some fun. Blowing off steam."

Armie stands silently and watches Tim fidget for a second.

"So...you headed home now?" Tim scratches at the back of his neck and twists his body side to side a little.

Armie shrugs. "I thought I'd take a walk. It's still early."

"Can I come with?" his hopeful expression tugs at something deep in Armie's chest.

Armie shifts his backpack. "You're not sick of me yet?"

Tim kicks the toe of his sneaker against a buckle in the sidewalk and shakes his head. "No, but I'll go if you just want to be alone..."

Armie steps closer and nudges him with his arm. "Come on then. I want to show you something."

They walk in silence for a few minutes, glancing at each other from the corner of their eyes when they think the other won't notice.

"So, how did all that come about?" Armie jerks his head back towards the club.

"That? Oh, um, I just started messing around with some of the kids in drama sophomore year and it kinda stuck. I don't do it all the time, but it's fun." he shrugs.

Armie nods. "You're good. I mean...I don't know a lot about that scene, but the crowd was definitely with you."

Tim laughs. "Everybody loves a clown, right?"

Armie stops and turns to him. "Is that really what you think?"

Tim opens his mouth to answer, but ends up just scrunching his face and scratching his jaw, his eyes restlessly flicking from Armie's face to over his shoulder and back again.

Armie huffs in exasperattion and starts walking again. "You're infuriating, you know that?" It's not until several steps later that he realizes Tim is no longer with him. He turns back and finds him standing in the middle of the sidewalk looking somewhat dejected.

"What do you mean?"

Armie drops his head back and sighs before coming back to him. "I _mean_ , you have this crazy talent and serve up all this cocky ' _been there done that_ ' shit, but I give you a compliment and you just...dismiss it? Like you're just — what? Not actually serious about _any_ of it? Just two hours ago we were dissecting a scene of complete heartbreak - you _were_ Elio, I felt it - and now you're..." He waves a hand up and down, gesturing vaguely to Tim's entire presence. "It's like you're two different people. I don't get it." He steps closer and looks down at him almost menacingly. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen, but I'll be 19 next month." His eyes are wide, unsure. "I'm not...like — what do you mean? Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?"

Armie winces and squeezes Tim shoulder then wraps one arm around them and makes him start walking again. "No. You did do anything wrong. It's me. I'm just frustrated." He laughs bitterly and goes quiet for minute. "Do you know how many classes I've taken?"

Tim looks up at him and shakes his head.

"Too many. Way too many."

"Okay..."

Armie shoves both hands in his pockets and closes in on himself little. He glances at Tim's confused face from the side of his eyes. "Fifteen. Fifteen utterly useless classes. Years wasted. Guess how many parts I've auditioned for?"

Tim is silent.

"Two."

"What?! Why?"

Armie shrugs. "I guess I just don't have the confidence to put myself out there...and then I see you. All this talent, and you're just shrugging it off like it's nothing."

"Well...not exactly. I want to do this. I want to act, and rapping is a part of that. Just another role to play. Acting is all I've _ever_ wanted to, but after a while you learn that it's not as easy as all that. I mean, getting parts and stuff, so you find other ways." He shrugs again. "I thought after Law and Order I'd be working non-stop, but..." He trails off. "Anyway, Luca says my time is coming and that I should be patient, but I dunno anymore."

Armie is silent for a minute as understanding finally starts to sink in. "I think Luca is right."

"Yeah?"

Armie just smiles, stopping at the iron railing around a monument in the park they've wandered into. He drops his pack, leans his forearms across the top rail, and takes a deep breath. "This is what I wanted to show you....remind you of anything?"

Tim clasps his hands behind his back and looks up with a knowing smile. "Yeah. Wow...just like in the book. I never even realized this was here."

Armie nods. "Not many people pay much attention to it, but I've been coming here at night when I can't sleep for years now. It's kind of my thinking spot."

Tim wanders around the barricade to stand a few feet away. He steps up onto the raised concrete and grabs the rails, leaning back and swaying like it's a piece of playground equipment.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I thought Mr G was crazy when he suggested we work together."

Tim grins. "Mad genius."

Armie smiles a little. "Truth is...I didn't want to like you."

Tim stops swaying. "But you do?"

"Yeah." Armie grins despite himself.

"Can't resist my swaggah."

Armie snorts, "Jesus."

Tim sidles up to him. "You _liiiike_ me. I'm irresistible."

Armie grabs him in a headlock and Tim ends up dropping his pack and nearly losing his shirt as a mock wrestling match ensues. When they break apart, both breathless with laughter and disheveled Armie shoves him back playfully. "You're still infuriating though."

Tim fixes his hat and beams up at him. "I'll work on that."


	9. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for you, angel. This is specific but please alter as you wish. Early Armie-Timmy both feeling some type of way towards each other in Crema (maybe?). Nothing that’s been completely spoken out loud. Forced to squeeze into a vehicle to go on a ride (at night?) and Timmy naturally has to sit on Armies lap. Armie cannot keep it down, but secretly since they’re not alone. Timmy gets the hint and low key starts to grind on him. Armie cannot last and makes a little mess. Yes? Please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I filled this one a long time ago but somehow allowed my self confidence demon get in the way of actually publishing it - but, I figured since it's the last day of 2018 (and god knows we need something nice right now)...what the hell!  
> Un-beta'd. Please, be nice.

The van hardly seems like a van at all. Armie eyes it dubiously as everyone piles in and gets back out several times to rearrange themselves in a different order.

It's finally decided that he'll have to take the jump seat in the back so that he can at least stretch his legs out across the width of the van, but that still leaves them one seat short.

"Timothée, do you think you can manage to squeeze in the back with Armie? Or maybe Victoire? You could fit—"

"NO! Uh, I mean, yeah. I can squeeze in."

Luca raises one eyebrow just slightly before turning to get in the passenger's seat. "Well, that's sorted then. Shall we?" He says a little too evenly. Annella and Michael exchange an unreadable look between them as they settle their beach bags between their feet and Esther bumps Victoire's shoulder with a giggle, resolutely keeping her eyes forward as Armie and Timmy open the back and fold themselves into the tight space.

"What's so funny?" Tim looks completely confused, hunched over to pull the door closed behind them while Armie gets himself situated.

"Niente. We will listen to the radio on the way, va bene? It's not too long of a drive to the coast, but you have time for rest if you can find a comfortable position."

Armie is too busy figuring out the logistics of arms, legs, and asses to pay attention to what everyone else is doing for the moment, but it quickly becomes apparent that this ride is going to be anything but restful.

"Are you —"

"No, put your legs out—"

"Ow -- watch your elbow."

"Sorry! Sorry....my bad."

"Just—" Armie finally grabs Tim by the hips and moves him into place.

Tim 'perches', trying hard not put all of his weight on Armie as they set off, but there are no bars to hold on to, nothing to really brace himself up with, so he eventually gets fatigued and settles back more comfortably.

Soon enough, Luca, Annella, and Michael are engaged in a heated debate about some topic that has evidently bored the girls enough to pull out their beach towels, wad them up, and lean against opposite doors for a quick nap before they reach the coast.

Armie envies them. Last night was a long shoot and he's cranky and exhausted. He has no where to put his hands, and as the roads get bumpier the further away they get from the towns, he becomes increasingly more aware of Tim's weight in his lap and the need to adjust his position.

Tim feels him squirm beneath him and turns as much as he can to face the back window of the van so that he can speak with him quietly. "Are you okay? Am I too heavy?"

Armie's ears go hot. "No. Not too heavy." He coughs and puts his hands on Tim's hips to shift him a little. It doesn't help at all....makes things quite a bit more challenging in fact.

"Oh...oooohhhhhh." Tim grins down over his shoulder at him.

Armie knows that look. "Tim. Don't." He warns, not in the mood to play.

Tim turns back around and shifts his ass a little as though trying to get more comfortable. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He says quietly. He shifts again and Armie's hands fly to his thighs to still him.

Tim leans his head back and tilts his mouth toward Armie's ear. "Relax."

Armie digs his fingers into his thigh muscles in warning. "Not here."

"Yes, here."

"Tim, _please_..."

Tim glances over at the sleeping girls then back at Armie with a devious grin. "Hey, Luca. Can you turn it up a little? I like this song."

Luca doesn't even pause the conversation to look back at them as he twists the knob and gesticulates passionately at some idea floating in the air between him and Michael. Annella's laughter floats back to them and Armie closes his eyes to try and find the reins on the composure he's quickly losing.

Tim leans his head back again and grips the back of the seat now vacated by Victoire's head as she snores softly against the window. "Tu es si dur..." He whispers under his breath, tilting his head down just a little so that he can get closer to Armie's ear.

"I wouldn't be if you would just sit still." Armie hisses back, but the fact that he's pulling Tim down harder against him takes all the heat from it.

"I think we both know that's not true." Tim grins as he braces his other hand against the back window.

Armie begins to regret wearing his swim shorts for the drive. They're far too thin and he feels completely exposed to every minute movement Tim decides to torture him with. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"You could too if you'd just relax."

Armie drops his head back against the padding of his seat and stifles a laugh. "Tim. Seriously. What are you trying to do to me?" He stage whispers, his frustration starting to ebb in the playful smirk on Tim's face.

"Just trying to make you more comfortable." He shrugs as though it were obvious.

"By making me —" He glances at Esther as she stirs and repositions her makeshift pillow, " _harder._ " The last word barely makes a sound.

Tim just smiles and makes a tiny circle with his hips.

Armie bites back a groan and reaches for his hips to guide him to the left a little despite every effort not to give in. Every ounce of willpower he was clinging to so desperately quickly evaporates as Tim moves again, a little more forceful this time. He closes his eyes and breathes deep. The friction is maddening....not enough...too much to ignore. He reaches down between them and pulls himself up, adjusts the waistband of his shorts so that his cock is peeking over the elastic.

Tim glances down at his exposed head and whispers a soft 'fuck' under his breath just as Armie's hand slides up his thigh and beneath the hem of his own shorts.

"Tit for tat. You should be _comfortable_ too."

Tim gasps and covers it with a cough as Armie's hand tugs at the fabric and burrows underneath to find him just as hard. The angle is awkward, but effective.

Armie pushes the leg of Tim's swim shorts and the liner aside as much as possible and pulls his cock down through the opening. He starts tracing one fingertip over his head in slow circles and smiles triumphantly as the playfulness of Tim's earlier expression melts into something else entirely.

"You boys okay back there?" 

Tim yelps and sits up straighter.

Armie responds, cool as cucumber, "Yep. It's not so bad after all."

Michael smiles and turns back around.

" _The_ _fuck_?" Tim hisses.

Armie just grins up at him.

"Okay. You win. Bad idea." Tim makes a move as though to pull away a little.

"Oh no.... _no_ _no_ _no_. You started this." Armie purrs as he wraps his fingers around him and gives him a light stroke.

Tim shudders and curls in on himself, his hips twitching minutely.

Armie places his free hand on his chest and pulls him back. "I think we should finish." He whispers.

Tim turns to look at him with slack jaw and heavy eyelids as Armie gives him another firmer stroke.

"Don't you?"

He gives a tiny, dreamy nod and reaches down beside them to pull a beach towel over his lap before settling back.  He slides his hand between them and starts to rub his palm against Armie's already slick head in a matching rhythm to the strokes he's receiving. His breath stutters on a whisper, "I want to kiss you."

"Tonight you can kiss me all you want, but right now, you better look like you're resting."

Tim drops his head back and turns his face toward the side of Armie's head, his thighs opening marginally wider to give Armie more room to work him. "Don't stop..." he pleads quietly.

Armie can feel him vibrating, his thighs tensing every time his fingers squeeze around his head. "Are you close?"

"So close." His breath trembles, hot against Armie's temple.

Armie feels himself swell in response, Tim's hand not faltering a bit even as he approaches the edge.

He speeds up just a little. Tim matches him, grinding down and smashing the hand pressed against Armie's cock between them.

"I'm coming...I'm coming..." the soft exhale of breath tickles Armie's cheekbone a split second before the hot gush fills his hand.

Armie closes his eyes and mouths at Tim's shoulder as he meets him there, his hot cum shooting out over his shorts and Tim's pressing hand. He doesn't make a sound.

They tremble together for a silent moment, breath held and bodies tense as the driver makes a turn down the beach road.

"Fuuuuck me...."

"Later." Armie chuckles.

"I can't believe we just did that." Tim looks dazed as he uses a corner of the towel to surreptitiously clean himself up.

Armie takes a clean corner and snorts a little as he does the same.  He wads it up and tosses it down on top of his bag with a look that plainly communicates his own amusement.

"I'll say it again for the record: you started it."

 

 


	10. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In answer to multiple requests for a little belly worship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took this a bit farther than originally intended and ended up in alvinophilia territory, but what can I say? The kink has spoken.  
> Un-beta'd, barely proof-read, and unapologetically filthy.  
> (take THAT, writer's block 🖕🏼)

"What are you doing?" Tim giggles, his voice a little raspy and deeper than when they'd fallen into bed together an hour ago.

Armie peeks up at him from under his lashes as he continues to kiss his way down his chest. "Nothin'...just relax." He nips him playfully just below his right nipple and squeezes his ribs on both sides to keep him from squirming.

Tim bites his lip and grins, grabbing a handful of Armie's spiky hair as he watches him descend. "I'm a mess though."

Armie glances up again. "I know." he says matter-of-factly before making a show of cleaning up a streak of cum dripping down his sternum with a long, deliberate swipe of his tongue.

Tim giggles again, "God, you're a pervert."

"Shut up. You love it." He inches a little lower, continuing on his mission.

Tim folds one arm behind his head to prop himself up and watches the show while he pets Armie's hair. "You're right...I do."

Armie smiles around his flickering tongue and chases a fine line of cum along the edge of his ribs, catching it before it has a chance to drip to the sheets. He explores with more suckling kisses, burying his face deep in the softeness of his little belly and nipping tiny pinches between his teeth along the way, pausing only to express his appreciation with soft hums of pleasure. "God, I love your belly."

Tim snorts and rakes his fingers through his hair. "I'm too soft."

Armie grins and licks a long stripe over his side. "Shhh, you're perfect...mmm...look at that." he murmurs, hovering above him and glancing up with a heated look in his eyes.

Tim strains his neck to get a better view. There's a little pool of cum filling his belly button, just starting to drip over the edge with the flexing of his muscles as he raises up.

Armie quickly descends to lap at the spill and scrape his teeth over the soft skin around it. "Be still." he commands softly.

Tim's hand tightens in his hair as he drops his head back with a little groan of pleasure, "Fuck....filthy...."

"Mmmhm...sick and twisted."

"Don't stop."

"I have no such intentions..." he breathes over his spit damp skin before dipping his tongue into the pool.

Tim gasps and holds him there, his thighs instinctively spreading wider as Armie settles between them and rests the weight of his chest against his groin.

He tongues him gently at first, lapping at the wetness and kissing around the sensitive little whorl of skin as he savors each taste until he feels Tim begin to stir and thicken against the pressure of his chest. He gives a little growl, presses down a bit harder and swirls his tongue deeper, pulling a moan from Tim in the process.

When he glances up, he can see that Tim's chest is rising and falling more rapidly now, and as Armie watches he unfolds his other hand from behind his head and reaches down for him. He pulls back and gives a few teasing flicks with the tip of his tongue. "You like that don't you, baby?" he whispers in a soft hiss.

"Yes...yes, do it again....please."

Armie grins and dives back in with intent, his tongue working his belly button just as thoroughly as he would his ass. He sucks and prods, licking and teasing with little flicks from the stiffened point of his tongue until Tim is all but writhing beneath him, circling his hips up to get more friction from the skin to skin contact of his chest against his cock.

"God, that feels so good...tickles...but...ngh...it's— _fuck_..."

"Tell me..." Armie purrs between licks.

Tim gasps and arches up on the next quick jab of his tongue, his fingernails raking against Armie's scalp. "It's like..." he swallows hard and pants, "...like this buzzing line connected directly to my cock." he giggles a little. "That sounds ridiculous."

Armie grins and flicks his tongue again instead of answering.

"I'm so fucking hard..." Tim whines.

Armie pulls away after one final, lingering suck. "I have an idea..." He slides lower and gently takes one of Tim's hands from his hair as he kisses his way down.

With out a word, he lays it flat against his belly, positioning his middle finger right over his spit slick belly button as he begins to slowly lick around his crown.

Tim lifts his head again and looks down with glazed eyes and a soft, debauched smile.

Armie nudges his finger down with light pressure and Tim's head falls back with a long, low groan.

"Good?"

"Mngh...."

Armie opens his mouth and slides his lips over his cockhead, suckling gently as he urges Tim to move his finger. He watches as Tim takes the cue and begins circling his belly button, dipping in gently.

He rewards him with stronger suction, sinking down a little lower each time while he slides one hand down between his cheeks.

"Oh, goddamn...what are you—?"

Armie starts circling his hole lazily, increasing the pressure with each suck.

"Yeah...yeah...oh fuck, yeah..." Tim moans wantonly, completely lost in the moment. His thighs start trembling, his finger moving faster, dipping in and swirling around to match the pace of Armie's finger at his asshole. He slides his free hand to his chest and pinches his nipple, keening at the overwhelming sensations flooding through him.

Armie matches his enthusiasm with a deep moan, sucking hard as he breaches him and immediately zeros in on his pleasure zone.

Tim shudders and stiffens in his mouth, the muscles of his belly jumping spastically. "Fuck - gonna come!"

Armie moans louder, sucks harder in response, his eyes locked onto Tim's shaking hand as he fingers his belly button and starts jerking his hips up with uneven little twitches.

Tim gasps in a ragged breath and suddenly goes still, the muscles of his thighs taut with the pressure of his heels digging into the mattress. A sob rips from his throat as he starts vibrating with the first spasm that tears through him to fill Armie's throat.

Armie pulls back and tongues his frenulum, breathing hard through his nose as he lets Tim's rapid, watery streams paint the inside of his mouth before sliding down to pull more from him with the constriction of his throat.

Tim curses and shakes, his hands clawing over his chest and belly until Armie relents and softens his mouth. He slowly melts back down to mattress, every limb loose, hands slack and sliding to his side. "Fuck...that was intense." He sounds dazed and spent.

Armie pulls off with a soft 'pop' and nuzzles him with a grin. "We'll definitely be doing that again."

Tim laughs and throws both arms over his eyes. "I don't know if I'll be able to _survive_ that again."

"Hm...we'll see."

Tim angles his neck and peeks down at him. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Armie props his chin on one hand and shrugs casually as he traces light fingertips over Tim's softening cock, "First time."

Tim doesn't miss the tinge of smugness coloring his words and scoffs at him. "Bullshit. Seriously?"

"Scouts honor." He winks and dips down, kissing the tender skin of his lower belly before crawling up over him and hovering there. "I went with my gut feeling." he grins.

Tim giggles and reaches up to grab the back of his neck. "Gut feeling, huh? God, you're cheesy." he snorts.

Armie kisses him hard and pulls back with a smirk. "So I'm perverted _and_ cheesy?"

"Mm...it's a good combination." Tim smiles happily.

"Guess what else I am."

Tim raises one brow.

"Hard as a fucking rock."

Tim licks his lips and pulls the bottom one between his teeth, his eyes glinting mischievously as he reaches down to nudge Armie to move further up. "I can help you with that."

 

 

 


	11. Stormy Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There weren't supposed to be any cameras.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a list of kiss prompts that need filling, and this one happened to fit the bill for three of them.  
> 1\. Angry kiss  
> 2\. I'm sorry kiss  
> 3\. Kisses Where One Person Is Sitting In The Other’s Lap   
> (Yes, I'm slow. Yes, I'm also lazy)

"Come here."

Tim shakes his head, reflexively tucks his hair behind his ear, and looks down at his feet.

"Tim. Come here." Deeper. " _Now_."

Fuck. He's using _that_ voice.

"No." His own voice barely registers between them. He inches back further, one hand pressed to the door of the suite behind his back. Fifteen feet separate him from Armie where he bristles on the couch looking like he's ready to spring, and Tim doesn't think it's nearly enough space to begin with. He damn sure isn't going to move any closer.

Armie gives a long sigh that turns into a short growl. Tim has a brief urge to to look up at him but resists by sheer force of will. He doesn't want to see him. Not really. Not like _this_ when he knows that his eyes will be that blazing shade of blue they only take on when he's reached his limit.

"I'm not mad. Just come here."

"Bullshit. I know you're mad, Armie. I don't want...it's better for us both if I stay over here."

Armie is quiet for a long moment. Tim can hear him controlling his breath - deep inhale, slow exhale. This might be even worse than he anticipated.

"OK. _Fine_. Yes, I'm mad, but you're just making it worse." he sounds calmer, but there's still an abruptness to his consonants that belies his tenuous grip on his emotions.

Tim snorts and scuffs at a mark on the floor with his socked toes. "How am I making it worse?"

Another sigh, sans growl. "Because I'm pissed off but I also know that you're more pissed at yourself than I ever could be and I can't stand seeing you like this."

Tim swipes angrily at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, but still doesn't move. He can sense that Armie is still fighting between the anger at what he's done and the need to comfort him, and that just makes him even _more_ angry. He doesn't deserve to be comforted right now. What he did could've ruined everything. He had no idea there were cameras. _There_ _weren't_ _supposed_ _to_ _be_ _any_ _fucking_ _cameras_! He can't even make a goddamn joke anymore without the hounds of hell descending on them both. He scoffs out loud at his thoughts...okay, so it wasn't _technically_ a joke, but it could've been played off as one had the footage not been leaked all over the fucking internet within fifteen seconds. He tosses his head back in frustration, knocking it into the door with a muttered curse. "What the fuck was I thinking?"

"Tim, goddammit- if you don't get over here right now I'm going to fucking lose it!" Armie snaps, his voice booming in the quiet of the room.

Tim flinches and squeezes his eyes shut, gluing himself to the wall. He's never seen Armie this angry, and while he knows he would never actually hurt him, it's still intimidating as hell to have six and a half feet of red faced giant screaming at you while you're nursing a gnarly hangover. The fact that said red faced giant on any other given day would normally be bringing him aspirin and rubbing his back while he tries to make him eat something does nothing to help his fight or flight instincts in this moment. He lets out a stuttering breath and bites his bottom lip, wishing he could disappear into the paint behind him. His knees are shaking and he's queasy again, but it's much less about the lingering booze and more a side effect of the adrenaline now.

There's a tense moment of ringing silence.

"Fuck. I'm sorry, Tim. I didn't mean to yell."

Tim sniffles and takes a shuffling step. "You're kinda scary right now." he says shakily, tugging his sleeves down over his hands as he closes the distance.

Armie reaches up to grab his wrist before he can take the spot on the cushion next to him. He pulls him in front of him and angles himself low so that he enters Tim's field of vision, still resolutely fixed on the floor. "Why are you scared? I would never hurt you, Tim. You know that."

Tim gives a little shrug and moves forward when he's tugged.

"It's okay. I just...I need to hold you right now. Yelling at each other across the room isn't going to make any of this any better."

He nods and lets Armie pull him down to straddle his lap.

"Would you look at me, please?" Armie cups his face in both hands and tilts his head back gently.

Tim can't stop his eyes from flitting around everywhere except Armie's face as they overflow again. "I'm sorry." he whispers for the hundredth time.

Armie swipes the tears from his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs and pulls him down. "I know, baby. It's not even you I'm really mad at right now. It's the situation. The limitations."

Tim folds over and sobs against his neck, finally wrapping his arms around him and giving in to the comfort offered.

"But I shouldn't have said it. It was stupid. Why am I so fucking stupid?"

Armie rubs his back and shushes him. "You're not stupid...you were drunk and excited. Besides, you should be able to say whatever you want without worrying about it being broadcast and dissected within five minutes of it leaving your mouth. It's not right. It's not fair. None of this is..."

"If I could just keep my mouth shut and stick to the script though...now everyone is talking again and Brian is fucking fuming. He actually hung up on me. He's never done that before." He chokes on another sob and shoves himself back up to wipe his nose.

Armie holds him by the waist and sits silently, waiting for him to calm down.

"Did she really throw your keys at you?" Tim mumbles as his tears subside, his eyes barely making it up to Armie's throat.

Armie moves one hand slowly up to his forehead and gingerly pushes his hair back to reveal a raw scrape along his hairline.

Tim's eyes widen, his face starting to crumble again.

Armie quickly grabs his hand and stops him, squeezing his fingers as he starts to reach up to touch the abrasion. "Hey. No. I'm fine. _It's_ _fine_."

Tim stares him dead in the eyes, his anger blazing again and making the green in his flare like witches' fire as he vibrates with indignant rage. "It's not fine though! _Nothing_ about this is _fine_. It's all over the goddamn internet, Armie. Everyone is talking. My fucking agent is hanging up on me." He gestures angrily with his free hand towards the cut. "Your wife is throwing things at you....we're screaming at each other... _fuck_." He wilts a little. "And all this because I went off and said something stupid in the wrong company..." he finally trails off, spent and exhausted.

Armie releases his hand and rubs his thigh soothingly. They're both quiet for a long moment, absently watching the motion because it seems like there's nothing else left to say after Tim's outburst. Tim finally looks up to ask if it hurts, if he needs a band-aid, but is stunned to silence before he even gets a syllable out.

One corner of Armie's mouth is tugging up in a half smile.

Tim blinks at him like he's lost his mind. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?! Why are you smiling?" He starts to push himself back off Armie's lap, about to completely lose his shit because there is absolutely nothing about this entire situation that is even remotely funny.

Armie smiles in earnest, starts laughing as Tim struggles to free himself from his grip.

"What the _fuck_ , Armie?!"

"No, no, no...it's just - will you stop, please?"

Tim stops struggling and watches in confusion as Armie fights the laughter. He jerks away and looks at his hand like it's a snake about to bite him when Armie reaches up to touch his cheek with a fond smile and soft eyes, his giggles finally subsiding.

"You're a feisty little spitfire when you're pissed, aren't you?"

Tim scowls at him. "Fuck you."

"It's cute."

"You're unbelievable."

Armie is still smiling up at him in that sappy way and he suddenly can't hold on to his anger any longer - he's just too damn tired. He relents and nuzzles against Armie's palm, needing that reassuring touch like oxygen, much as he's tried to fight it. "How do you go from screaming to laughing in the span of just a few minutes? You were literally just ready to punch a wall." He mumbles, sounding utterly defeated.

Armie shrugs a little and raises a brow. "You're pretty sexy when you get all worked up." he smirks. "Besides, it seemed like you were mad enough for the both of us. One of us had to give."

Tim pushes weakly at his chest, trying and failing to maintain his frustration with him for daring to laugh in the middle of all this. "I kinda hate you right now."

Armie grins and pulls him down for a long, soft kiss.

Tim melts into it and only pulls away reluctantly when he needs a breath. He braces their foreheads together and sighs. "I really am sorry, you know."

Armie gives a little nod, "I know..."He strokes the side of his neck and kisses the corner of his mouth."...but you can stop apologizing now. You've beaten yourself up more than enough for everyone involved."

"But it was so st—"

Armie cuts him off. "It wasn't stupid, Tim. It was the truth. You've never been good at hiding it anyway, and it just slipped out this time."

Tim sits back and pouts, his fingers restlessly twisting at the front of Armie's t-shirt. "But I started another shitstorm..."

Armie shakes his head and covers his hands with his own. "You didn't start anything that wasn't already there, baby. People still haven't stopped talking about us after all this time, this just gave them something new to play with."

Tim makes a face and opens his mouth to say something else, but Armie reaches up and covers his lips with a finger to shush him.

" _Stop_. It'll pass. We'll get through this just like we have everything else...okay?"

Tim's brows pucker threateningly with everything else he wants to say, but he just nods reluctantly, letting it rest for now.

"Good." Armie drops his hand and pats Tim's thighs to nudge him up. "Now I think you could probably use some coffee and aspirin." He pauses and wipes at the corners of his own mouth with his fingertips as he rises, pulling a sour face. "And maybe brush your teeth?"

Tim takes a step back scrunches his nose up, looking sheepish. "Sorry...I threw up just before you knocked."

"Aww, poor baby." Armie coos with melodramatic sympathy, throwing one arm around his shoulder to lead him over to the bed. "You lay down. I'll call room service."

Tim gratefully crawls under the covers feeling like his body weighs three times its normal amount. "Will you stay?"

Armie pauses in dialing the front desk and snorts a laugh, "You kidding me? She was throwing furniture when I left. My bags are down in the lobby."

As that sinks in, Tim pulls the covers up to hide the beginnings of a smile. This might not be such a complete disaster after all.

 


End file.
